Chapter 32

Fabi felt the blindfold being roughly torn from her eyes. She did not recognize the man who tossed the fabric aside, though could tell he was a local Haitian of middle age, and had heard his associates call him by name: Odelin. She looked past her captor, trying to ascertain where she was. Inside, in what looked like the kitchen of a house, where she could hear but not see other men in the other rooms. Fabi sat on a chair, her hands tied behind her back but not to the chair itself, and her legs not bound. Looking sideways, she saw Cassandra in the same situation on a chair next to her.

“You.” Odelin pointed at Fabi. “Up. Come with me.” He waved toward the adjoining room. Fabi stood, and Cassandra began stammering. “F — Fabi? What’s happening? What are they doing?”

Odelin stomped his boot on the wooden floor. “Silence, or you will be gagged.”

“Don’t worry, Cassandra. I’m right here. These men want something from me. When we get it sorted out, I’m sure they’ll let us go like the gentlemen they are.” She gave her captor a hard stare, but he only waved her on into the next room.

The dining room had once been nice, but had long since fallen into a state of neglect. The walls had cracks and spider webs dangled from corners. A table surrounded by mismatched chairs occupied the center of the smallish room, its surface cracked and dirty. Two other men waited in here, both standing against different walls and armed with sub-machine guns. These two still wore the concert T-shirts around their faces, Fabi noticed, but for some reason the one who led her in here, Odelin, was unconcerned about being masked. Would she recognize those holding the guns from around town?

She had little time to ponder this as Odelin shoved a chair in front of her. He stood over her until she sat. Then he pushed her and her chair up to the table and walked around the table to sit opposite her. He stared at her dead on.

“Fabiola Baptiste. Your cousin, David the priest, was looking for a shipwreck treasure thought to be here in the waters of Haiti.”

“If you say so.” Fabi struggled to keep her voice even, to keep her emotions in check. “I know nothing about what David was doing. I hadn’t heard from him in months when he died. Perhaps you were responsible for his death?”

“Perhaps you will answer my questions without asking your own, or you will find that the ability to speak is a privilege afforded only to those who cooperate.”

Fabi let her head loll back in frustration, speaking up to the ceiling. “I’m telling you, I don’t know anything about a sunken treasure. I work in a medical clinic! What do I know about underwater treasure?”

“You have associates cooperating with you to find it. The Americans with a boat.”

“They are acquaintances of mine from my old days in the American Navy. They are here on vacation to do some recreational scuba diving because I always told them what a beautiful and hospitable place Haiti was to visit.”

Odelin shook his head slowly, taking on a pained expression as though saddened by what he had just heard. “Fabiola… I will ask you one more time. One Haitian to another. Where. Is. The. Treasure?”

“I’m sorry, but I’m running out of ways to say the same thing over and over. I don’t know anything about any treasure, much less where it might be.” She perked up as if receiving a new thought. “In the ocean. How about that. It’s in the ocean.”

Her captor appeared unfazed. “Where in the ocean?”

“I have no idea.”

He looked to one of the men holding a gun and nodded. The guard promptly returned the nod without a word and left the room, leaving one armed man behind.

“We’ll see about that.”

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